Monday, June 1, 2009

06.01.09

I've gotten home at the very early hour of 3:33 pm in the afternoon.
Lying on my belly on my bed as I write this freewrite.

Pandora is gnawing on the leathery parts of my black suede sneakers and I'm just not stopping her. She wants me to feed her.

I found a sunny spot in the Writing Center to do some journal writing...summers are slow, we've had three students in two weeks. I enjoy the hushed tones of the place. The quiet space to think and write.

Bleu is in his room strumming chords on his guitar and I can hear the children in the backyard yell and roar and cry as they play. Mami and Magdelena are chatting in Spanish while they keep an eye on the kids. Mami sings to them "suve a mi moto" didn't Menudo sing that song?

My 5.30 date with S. has been cancelled so I'm here trying to rev myself up to do work / start homework / do some reading / write some poetry / work on a scene for my playwriting group / clean my desk / write out my to-do list or at least figure out what needs to go on a to-do list.

What I'd rather be doing is chat with Sam, watch back episodes of Eureka on Hulu, go to the beach, go for a swim, go for a walk, listen to music, sleep, hmmmm.

So I lie here on my belly...watching the clock tick tick tick away. Why do I feel like I'm running out of time?



All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

05.31.09

It's been a month since I last posted on this blog and it feels wrong to have neglected it for so long. I thought once the Spring semester ended, I would have a little more breathing space. But that's not really what came out. Instead, I went into the first summer cycle of classes and it's been kicking my butt...trying to read everything I need to read (which I really don't mind...since I love to read)...but then having to come up with something fairly intelligent to say about it (which takes a little more brain power than I have at the moment), then come up with creative work inspired by the readings (really?!...which in most cases would be fun but fried, frazzled me can't seem to find the fun)<<< oooo alliteration. I can stay here and whinge away all day but I have quite a to-do list hidden underneath a pile of paper on my desk. So....sort out papers to find to-do list...then work? Or just work on what I know is pressing against my brain at the moment and find the list later? Or slip under my duvet and call it a day at 12:57 pm on a sunny sunday? My lips just twisted up into a weird half smirk 'cause I know that ain't happening.

Tony says that it's called transition....argh! Why must transitions be so uncomfortable? I can sit with it and let the waves of being overwhelmed wash over me but there is a part of my that just wants to get things done and out of the way. Everything feels so obligatory at the moment which makes me want to rebel in the worst way. I mean, there is a part of me that just wants to procrastinate until it's 1 am in the morning and I cant sleep bc I'm stressing about the reflection paper that's due. *sigh* What is wrong with this picture? When did life become so hard to manage?
And really it's not that serious...it's not...it's just the way I am handling it...it's the way I'm looking at things. I would like to shift my perspective a little since it's slightly skewed...

Hmmm all for now...got to get on with it.



All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

I was a dreamer...

Images come in waves stranded on
a damp shoreline. Prayers under
breath, innumerable possibilties
linger calmly against the rocks
exposed to the elements. Wood
and flesh, bone and ashes piled
as an afterthought. The metallic
taste of blood lingers on the tongue
when there is talk of kinship.
Thoughts hunker down
and silence floats freely, pulled
along by the undercurrent.



All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.